The Bleeding Star
by Spike Daft
Summary: The sequel to "Faces in the Stone", the Bleeding Star" is a journey once again into the very heart of the Brotherhood, where dark things wait to be discovered.
1. Foreward

FOREWARD __

FOREWARD

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I have often found myself here, at my computer, in the most hellish of early morning hours, wondering why sleep has once again eluded me so that my mind can prod me out of bed and place me firmly behind the keyboard. The only answer I ever come up with is that the great god of fan fiction has requested my services once again to thoroughly explore, with my literary fingertips, the darker side of the X-Men. The Brotherhood of Mutants has often been unjustly portrayed in the comics, and only slightly more adequately in the movie (I say this because the actors for the villains seemed to fit as smoothly onto their characters as Rebecca Romaijn-Stamos's blue body paint). Being a fan of the greatly misunderstood and misrepresented Toad, I was quite delighted when his character was vastly improved by the addition of Ray Park to the cast to take on the role. He is no longer a jester, but a true blue (okay, green) badass to whom was added a depth and color that struck down the assumption that he would be lame and unimpressive. Truth be told, he stole the show for many of us.

I wrote "Faces in the Stone" as an exploration of Toad's inner torment, and how he chooses to deal with it. I picked his artful adaptation (the faces in the stone) of the events of his life as a means of dealing. It seemed a more positive, strong, and admiral thing to do rather than sitting about whining and being introverted (which is only good fic fodder when there is another interesting aspect blended with it). Jacob was an extension of a number of people I have encountered, as well as an extension of what every mutant must feel when faced with the realities of life. Jacob was lucky: he was set free. But what now of the Brotherhood? Surely Jacob left an impression upon all of them, like, as Magneto put it, "a stain on our lives like blood on floorboards, which can never be removed no matter the scrubbing and bleaching and wishing and regretting." 

"The Bleeding Star" is a tale that begins after Jacob's death. Things have settled down and smoothed out again, and relationships are victim to the very real effects of time. I have been asked many times over for a sequel to "Faces in the Stone", and have decided to quell the cravings of the avid fan fiction reader as well as my own desire to journey once again into the cool depths of the lair; feeling the infiltrating sea breezes, hearing the whispers that permeate the stone, touching the faces carved upon the walls. It is a much a journey than it is a piece of writing.

Many people loved the relationship between Toad and Mystique in "Faces in the Stone", but in that aspect "The Bleeding Star" is sadder, for the relationship has been subject to the erosion that time causes, just as it does in real life. 

"The Bleeding Star" is another testament to the life of this fascinating group, but, though it is a sequel, it should be seen as a work unto itself. It is not only a journey within the very soul of the Brotherhood, but also an endeavor into our own hearts, our fears, our prejudices, our human instinct. 

So hang on. This ride could get bumpy.

-Andrea the Spiky Sithster


	2. Travelling Back

Requiem for the Forgotten ****

Authors Note: Please allow for time between the chapters. Life won't wait for a fic to be finished, unfortunately. One must do what is possible in the allotted time. Thank you ahead of time for your patience.

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The Bleeding Star

By Andrea the Spiky Sithster

Chapter One: Travelling Back

Who is he?

No one seemed to be able to answer that. More sadly still, when he asked, " What am I?" they were at an even greater loss. They didn't know. They didn't want to know.

He was accustomed to it, however. He was the boy in the corner, the freak, the outcast. But even the outcasts didn't want to speak to him. They were their own elite group. One might as well have a membership card.

But he never cried. He'd run away, he would fear them, he would bleed when they hurt him. But he would not show emotion- it was a gift far too sacred for his weak little body, and for their enjoyment as well. Enough of trying to be brave, he reasoned. Hide; hide away and be silent as a mouse and they will leave you alone.

This was the philosophy that dominated his every waking moment until the day the man with the ice-blue eyes came to visit him…

Now he is alone, just like he was when he was young, but it is a different kind of loneliness he feels. He is in the presence of mutants like himself, mutants born obvious of their enhancements and thus an object upon which ignorant human beings projected their fear and hatred. He is alone because, in this group, there is no good-natured banter, nor long, deep conversations. There are orders, and there is obedience. Now more than ever he is not free to think.

He is now a killer. A killer of _homo sapiens_; a killer of cowards, of liars, of ignorance; a killer of killers. A killer of innocent people as well, who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He never feels remorse for them because they, to him, were too insignificant to notice. This philosophy he learned from his master. If he had realized that this too was ignorance, the very thing that drove him to the life he lives, then perhaps his sleep would not have been as restful.

He has lost the old fear as well as the old weakness- it died in the snapping of bones and the welters of sticky glorious blood and the ice-blue eyes of the man who coveted the flame of hatred that to this day burns within him.

He resides on a remote island, in a cave he calls home. He takes orders from a man more powerful than the President of the United States, or the Queen of England, as he is more inclined to think, being of former residence in Britain. If anyone cared enough to talk to him he would not be the least hesitant in admitting his subservience to this man, this mutant called Magneto. For Magneto is a savior of sorts- a bitter one, full of resentment and hatred and generous with physical abuse. But he is all there is now, all there had ever really been, and all that will ever be. He will die for Magneto without hesitance, and Magneto expects as much. Expendability and loyalty takes priority in the expectations of his Brotherhood.

The orphanage with its days of terror and abuse, hesitance and sadness, are gone now. Life now is one full of death and revenge and nameless hatred and obedience. At least now he has direction in his chaotic life: go the way Magneto directs, or go underground. Triumph or failure. Life or death. 

Yes, he certainly doesn't lack direction any longer.


	3. A Means for War

Chapter Two: Silence

Chapter Two: A Means for War

The sun was an orb of flaming, claret beauty as it slowly heaved itself above the long belt of the horizon. The nimbus of its dancing rays, like fairies round firelight, paused to hold the ocean in a brief but longing kiss before flitting away to join the earth to the sky.

They whirled upon the mountains bordering the sea and swept inward. Then, as though remembering something long forgotten in their haste, they whirled round again and hurled out to sea to embrace the lone, emerald-dotted island that stood solitary, mist-wreathed, nameless. The light flooded into the crevices, awakening the tiny creatures that dwelled there, warming them after the cold Atlantic night, and then came round and knocked upon a stone and metal door, and waited patiently. No answer came, and soon the sunlight, being short for time, turned and flitted away again, leaving behind only the slightest kiss of light to chase away the night-things.

Within the inky atmosphere of the rooms within the isle, the air was cold and smelled vaguely of pounded steel and swampland. The air was punctuated constantly with a myriad of tiny chirpsas minute frogs and other amphibians scurried about in the shadows, hunting the fireflies and dragonflies that hovered like iridescent helicopters over the gently bobbing indigo waters. Beyond stretched an arm of metal; a catwalk that led through the caves and into rooms both natural and manmade but had yet to see the light of day. 

Within one such room, furnished only with gray, chilled metal, crouched a smallish figure, obviously just shy of human. His name: Mortimer Toynbee. From his green skin and hair to his unnatural bone structure and long, flexible spine, he looked every bit a creature born from the mossy depths of the mysterious island. He peered down to the floor where the tiny carcass of a tree frog lay, and blinked his sad, moist yellowblack eyes that were large and set deeply in the refined structure of his features. A frown graced his lips as he extended a finger, long and curiously webbed, to stroke the tiny body. A sigh escaped him when there was no response to his prodding, and after a time he rose and slunk out of the room to disappear into the shadows that hugged the chamber outside. 

Toad.

He emerged into a great cavern, the main room of what his master called the Lair. Across the gently bobbing waters, slashed down the middle by the metal catwalk, another room, entirely metal, seemed to glow from within as the halogen lights embedded in its walls reflected off the steel surfaces. From its depths rose an angry, masculine voice, stately and refined, yet frightening in its tone. Presently, two shadows, one much larger than the other, puddled out of the doorway and grew longer as two figures rapidly approached. 

Toad quickly straightened his posture and went calmly answer to his master: a man named Eric Magnus Lenscherr; slim of build, sharp of mind, cunning and lord of all over which he presided. To his subjects he was known as Magneto, and it was a name that lived in infamy.

Beside the older man hulked the great mass of Sabretooth, alias Victor Creed, whose donning of pelts was appropriate on his feline form, which always harbored round it the faint smell of blood, like an aura of red. His massive hands were equipped with heavy, knife-sharp claws, his mouth was full of cruelly sharp teeth, and he was hairy. He looked down at Toad with coal-black eyes.

Toad regarded him impassively. Things had changed slightly between them since the young boy, Jacob, had fallen to his death from the cliffs of the island. They rarely baited one another now, and physical run-ins were at an all-time low. The animosity, once raging within them, had subsided to a dull throb, as if the boy had taken the spark that kept it aflame and extinguished it in the icy waters where he died. 

Toynbee had changed as well. During the weeks that followed the boy's death, grief and guilt had hounded him, made him weak and lethargic, until his mastery of stoicism finally kicked in again and shoved the whole thing to the very back of his mind, where he never dared to tread for fear of what lurked there. He still found a unique friend in Mystique, but she had done the same as he and both now conversed mainly for the purpose of business. True fondness and caring had muted itself and was now just shy of indifference, and idle talk had dissipated into silence and separation. They had hardened again, but the disfigurement of their ordeal was evident still: some physical, like the scars on Toad's forehead and round his neck, and some mental. Deep within they never forgot what had transpired.

Magneto never forgot, either. Jacob's power had unsettled him immensely; reminded him of when he was of that age- of that day where his will made itself known in the new emergence of his mutant powers in the death camp Auschwitz. When he looked into the defiant eyes of the boy just seconds before his death, Magneto had seen staring back at him the very same resolve and power that had regarded him from his mirror. Outwardly he was relieved when Toad killed the boy, but within he was filled with questions and perhaps even a bit of regret. What if he had lived? What would things be like now? His subjects had returned to silent obedience, and from his observations he found them rarely speaking to one another- nothing like they had been a year before.

Something had died in Toad. Even Magneto noticed it; though he paid close attention to his Brotherhood's health, lest a member be unable to work, he rarely took any notice in what took place in their lives. Toad did his work as usual, perhaps with even more attention to detail, but he seemed distant somehow. Almost distracted, but, curiously, there was nothing to distract any longer. He had become a machine.

" Have you maintenanced the air cooling unit like I asked?" Magneto inquired of Toad.

" Yes."

" Good," Eric nodded as Mystique materialized at his side, a small smile in her beautiful saffron eyes. " Now that you're all here, I have an assignment for you. There is an anti-mutant meeting that has been rumored to take place tonight in Westchester. Mystique will disguise herself and infiltrate the meeting. You two will wait outside in hiding. Her signal will be the means of your attack. Take out as many as you can, any way you see fit."

" Why would we risk bringing negative attention to mutants?" Toad could not help but ask.

Magneto smiled, a coldness creeping into the fringes of his gaze that only made itself known when he was wanting for war or revenge.

" Because I want to get Charles' attention. We have a score to settle with him."


	4. It Begins

The thirst for battle charged the atmosphere of the lair, and as the Brotherhood readied themselves they indulged in the easy atmosphere

Chapter Three: It Begins

The thirst for battle charged the atmosphere of the lair, and as the Brotherhood readied themselves they indulged in the easy atmosphere. They seemed to become more jovial as the promise of death and bloodshed grew near, and it had been a long while since any of them had inflicted violence upon unsuspecting people.

Toad donned his newest and best battle gear: slightly baggy, tattered black pants that allowed for his wide degree of movement, and a tight black shirt. He took his new inventions- gauntlets of leather in many places for protection lest he be struck, fingerless black gloves with cruel spikes of metal embedded in the knuckles- and donned with them a wicked smile. The slight twinge of remorse that he had once felt when preparing for a deed such as this had receded so deeply inside of him that he felt nothing. It was as thought Jacob's death had created a callus upon his soul.

Mystique had noticed this. She had been, by nature, rather unaffected by the boy's fatal plunge, and her feelings had gone beneath the surface, but were not entirely gone. She regretted what Toad had become, and as she readied the transmitters she could not help but steal a glance at him, noticing him touch the points of the spikes he had put in his gloves and grin as though he already saw the blood upon them. She frowned deeply, but then Sabretooth swept into the room, stimulated by anticipation, and the feelings were gone as suddenly as he had come.

The huge, felinoid mutant donned no special gear, but rather opted for his furs as he always did. They manifested his carnality to the point that if he wore anything else he wouldn't feel his full feral self. He growled into the open air, which bore the sound aloft to the very peaks of the roof and sent the doves flapping in alarm.

" You ready yet?" he asked Mystique, who nodded curtly, stood, and handed out the transmitters. As Toad took his he caught her eye, sharing a long look that spoke volumes, even in Toad's eyes, where something flickered deep within that only Mystique could have noticed and understood. They always seemed to do this at times like these: in the gaze was the acknowledgement that one or both of their deaths were entirely possible in the dark and screaming hours to come. It was a silent goodbye. 

Victor pushed between them, growling, "Lets go." Mystique and Toad, whose nameless projection had submerged again, broke their gaze and followed wordlessly. No words were needed.

* * *

Magneto sat within his chambers, his Brotherhood having left only a half-hour before. A smile crossed his stately features as he thought of how Charles would react to the news, and hoped despite his confidence that the Xavier would take the bait. Revenge was the only thing on his agenda now: no extravagant plots to turn everyone into mutants- this had been tried, and a new and better plan was in order. But not now. Now it was simple and full retaliation that he wanted, for the defeat of his Brotherhood had weakened them somewhat, or so it seemed to him. The humiliation and powerlessness he had felt while trapped in that accursed plastic prison would not be forgotten. It had been more than a year since his escape, and the time was right to strike. In the months following his freedom, Eric knew that Charles and his X-Men would be looking closely for him, utterly prepared lest he emerge again. But now they had most likely resigned themselves to assuming that he was deep in hiding, forming another elaborate plan to conquer all of humankind in favor of mutants.

The dark rage that had fermented within him had not waned with the event of his freedom, but rather grew stronger and deeper as he mulled over it in the presence of his Brotherhood. They had seen him, their all-powerful leader, defeated and at the mercy of so many ignorant fools- the sideshow in a plastic box. Surely this had done nothing to polish his reputation and standing among them. This, in his mind, was a crime that could not go unpunished. So he formulated a simple but brutally effective plan:

Draw the X-Men out into the open, where they could be distracted whilst Eric and his chosen few carried out the real mission: a deadly attack on the academy, full of the children Charles so dearly loved.

All respect and feeling that he had once had for Xavier was gone now, for this was a war of revenge, and it would be Eric Magnus Lenscherr that would deal the killing blow.

* * *

Toad and Sabretooth waited inside the car with the heavily tinted windows, watching the back entrance of the building in question. Toad sat patiently, busy pushing away his turgid thoughts, while Sabretooth set about shredding the seat cushions in high bad temper at the wait. His musky feline scent was thick in the car because of his activity, and Toad wished vainly that he could crack the window even a little bit, but the event of his being noticed was far too great a risk to take.

" Why won't she hurry the hell _up_?" Sabretooth hissed suddenly, shattering the near silence within the car. The tearing sounds increased, and Toad turned to the back seat irritably. 

" Will you settle down? You're annoying the fuck out of me," he gritted. Sabretooth showed his great teeth but made no reply.

The transmitter beeped suddenly, and Mystique's hushed voice filled the stuffy car.

" All is ready. Time to make your entrance."


	5. Bloodshed

Chapter Five: Bloodshed

Chapter Four: Bloodshed

The pitiful gathering of twenty at the anti-mutant meeting never knew what hit them.

Sabretooth had seen to the door- rather than opening it he commenced the party by kicking it in, sending splinters of wood showering over the assembly, seated in uncomfortable brown metal folding chairs. Many of these were immediately overturned as panic ensued, but as Sabretooth mauled his victims, Toad set about securing the two entrances, Mystique covering him. The shattered door still provided enough blockage, and Toad shoved it in place. He spat a rapidly hardening substance onto the locks, and when he was finished, turned upon the crowd for his own taste of blood.

The room was small and Toad ricocheted off the walls, crushing some, suffocating others, rending cringing flesh to ribbons as the spikes on his gloves did the job he had intended for them magnificently. Mystique dispatched a few effectively with the skinning knife she had slipped into a holster on her leg, but left the main part of the massacre to the other two, who took great delight in the screams of the dying. Coolly she watched, but as Toad bounded past her, dripping with blood, eyes afire and teeth bared, she became unsettled. Was this the same mutant she had held close as he mourned the death of Jacob- a child he barely knew- those long months ago?

Apparently not. Crazed by his bloodwrath, he had become almost as manic as Sabretooth, and at one point shoved her to one side as a helpless young man stumbled dumbly past her, dazed from a blow to the head, disoriented, and terrified. Death came to him via a crushing grip around his neck by Toad- the young man died of asphyxiation as he drowned in the blood of his shattered throat. Mystique recoiled despite herself, shutting her eyes, and when she opened them again she saw that all the occupants of the little room had been slain.

Toynbee approached her, panting, skidding on the slick blood and gore that smeared the tile floor. From the spikes of his right glove hung a single, thick ribbon of flesh, which swayed as he moved like some obscene piece of jewelry. He stared at her, the bloodwrath fading from his eyes, and shook his dripping hands deftly, not once breaking his gaze. Blood spattered as Sabretooth materialized behind them, grinning joyfully with bloodstained fangs, his desire to hunt and kill and devour living flesh now more then adequately sated.

Mystique recovered herself and regarded them both coolly again. She nodded her head once, and they followed her to the car and sped away. The attack had only lasted three minutes- so swift a killing that no one had caught wind of it yet. 

Magneto would be most pleased.

* * *

Eric knew that the hunt was now on.

His first order of business was to set about creating small, sleek devices that would block out Charles's telepathy should he use Cerebro and actually be able to locate the island fortress, not to mention possible discovery during the midst of a mission. This was short and easy work: a flat chip the size of a dime was formulated, and provided the same protection as his helmet. Every member of the Brotherhood was to have this implanted in the skin directly above the right temple to assure safety. A deep, half-inch long incision was made and the device slipped into it to rest snugly against the skull.

Eric did this quickly and retired back to his quarters for rest and to watch for the reports on the news to come rolling in, and they were not long in coming. His Brotherhood sulked in their respective places outside, tired from their attack and annoyed by the pain of the implant. It had sent Sabretooth into a high bad temper, even though his healing powers were quick in regenerating the wound, but he and Toad had clashed on three separate occasions. It had only been six hours since they had arrived back. 

Mystique was tired, and sick of it all. She wanted to sleep, but the dull ache in her head made such a luxury impossible. Toad's eyes still burned into her, unsettling her still so that she couldn't even close her eyes to try and assuage the throbbing in her head. Eric was so busy that he hadn't even wanted to speak to her, which stung her slightly despite herself. Her thoughts were like the sea during a storm: turgid, dark, and dangerous.

Toad himself was exhausted; annoyed too by the pain in his head as well as by a few deep cuts he had suffered at the claws of Sabretooth during one of their scuffles. Something within him was upset at the deeds he had carried out earlier, but the feelings could not rise to the surface- they were just beyond the reach of being felt. Was it regret, or sadness, like he had felt when Jacob died? There was no telling just now.

In the very back of Toad's psyche, he was frightened of what had been transpiring. He could no longer feel regret for his actions, as though his conscience had decayed as Jacob's mortal flesh had. When he thought of the boy now he could not summon up the same feeling he had experienced before. The sadness seemed to have gone, as had the caring, the guilt, and the muted anger towards Magneto…everything. 

Sitting alone on his ledge, a dull ache in his head, the doves cooing softly in tribute to the dawn, Toad pondered what he had become.


	6. Stormclouds

Chapter Five: Stormclouds ****

Author's note: Thank you all so much for your fantastic reviews. You're the ones who keep me going! I'm thrilled that you like the story so far. J 

Chapter Five: Stormclouds

Three days after the attack on the anti-mutant meeting, storm clouds began blotting out the summer sun. A cool breeze whipped the waves into creamy, white-crested rollers that broke upon the rocky shores of the island fortress. Thunder growled with bad temper, and on occasion spears of white-hot lightning flashed down from the bruised underbellies of the thunderheads that loomed over the horizon.

The oppressive heat of the summer day began to lift, and the creatures of the island were stirred out of their torpor. Their calls echoed round the stone grottos while the shadows whispered loudly at the very peaks of the massive caverns.

Magneto stood behind the jagged crown of rocks that studded the shore, back away where the waves could not get at him. He enjoyed the current of fresh, cool air that wiped away the stagnancy of the caves, which despite the air-purifying units never were entirely free of staleness. This fresh air helped him think.

Charles was indeed keeping his eyes and ears open and alert, of this Eric was certain. The residents of New York City were on edge as well, not knowing what to make of the massacre at the anti-mutant meeting. Never before had any trouble befallen such gatherings, and no survivors were left to tell the tale. Hence, the culprits could have been anyone. Some blamed mutants, others blamed activists, and still others blamed terrorists. But Charles would know as soon as he heard about it, especially the injuries inflicted. 

News, however, was tight concerning the massacre; very little information had been released, lest the crime be blamed solely on the mutant population and thus place them in unneeded danger. It was obvious to Eric that there were at least a couple of higher-ups who were covert mutants. Usually in cases such as this mutants were the first to be blamed, but things here were kept carefully neutral. It was exactly as Eric had been hoping, but it wouldn't have made much difference anyway.

All that mattered was that it got Charles' attention, and Eric had no doubt that he had succeeded.

Presently a light rain began to fall as the clouds unfurled themselves over the entire sky, raising a salty smell from the rocks, which had been crusted with spume baked beneath an angry sun. Eric looked down as the raindrops hit the sand at his feet and instantly disappeared, taken eagerly by the thirsty ground. He smiled faintly and turned to go inside, casting one last look at the restless sea behind him.

* * *

Toad was in the main cavern when the lightning struck its peak.

The sight was sudden and spectacular: there was a sharp crack, bits of rock tumbled down from high above to splash violently into the water below. The entire top of the cavern was lit up in an eerie, silver-blue glow, and for a second time seemed to stand still. Toad could see every crevice illuminated for the first time in millions of years, and as the light fell and the doves flapped away in fear, and a thick smell filled the room- metallic, sharp, and almost greasy; the smell of ozone- he smiled slowly at what he saw.

Curtains of moss hung down from the utmost peaks, black in the odd light of the thunderbolt, resembling the long and tattered hair of the witches spoken of in the stories he had often overheard in the orphanage. Small crabs swarmed upon it, feeding and completely sustained in the moist and inky darkness. The small ledges and spaces in the rock were white with bird guano, an odd contrast to the deep gray rock. 

The light died then and the thunderclap shook the very island to its core, but the stones held their resolve and Toad, naturally wary of lightning, felt safe within its lush embrace. His smile stayed, and as he watched the doves flitting about, back to their homes again, he felt a surge of sadness that Jacob could not be there to witness such a sight.

This thought faded as quickly as it had come, but it left Toad more awestruck then had the lightning. He had done it. It was brief, fleeting, vague… but he had done it. He had felt something for the first time since Jacob died. 

Toad went to the water's edge, where in the gloom he could just make out his reflection- his temple slightly bruised and cut where the implant had been placed, eyes dark, jaw set. He tried to smile at the hateful sight, disgusted that his face had been witness to so much needless death, but his breath caught in his throat and made him grimace. Taking a deep breath, he tried again, and this time the face in the water smiled back at him, and the angry eyes softened and the callus thinned.

Perhaps there was hope after all.


	7. Faces

Chapter Six: Calm

Chapter Six: Faces

The evening fell and dispersed the storm, leaving the night as calm as a millpond. The creatures that had been frightened of the lightning chanced to venture out again, and soon their fears were allayed and their cries rang out through the night, illuminating the darkness with life. The tiny pinprick stars winked in the velveteen canopy of the sky, and the full disk of the moon shimmered upon the water, as black as spilled ink.

In his office Magneto sat thinking, not only of his plan but of his Brotherhood and life in general. He wondered if Sabretooth, Mystique, and Toad were happy with his ruling, with the assignments he ordered them to carry out. Did they agree with his plans, or simply follow them with resignation? He questioned the strength of their devotion, as any leader is wont to do. But there were other, more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. Now was not the time to be questioning one's faith.

His next attack would be in a week exactly, when he would send Sabretooth to create a diversion. The feral mutant was good at that, and was very likely to be able to successfully escape before he could be captured or eliminated by the X-Men. While their attention was elsewhere, he, Mystique, and Toad would enter the academy. From there, it was death and destruction, as much as possible, to strike the sword deep into Charles' heart. Eric secretly hoped that Sabretooth might be able to take a couple of the X-Men down for good measure, but he didn't want to expect too much. Doing so would be foolish.

Magneto allowed himself a thin smile and began his preparations.

* * *

Toad woke from his even slumber, wrenched from his dreams by something urgent- a feeling, a presence. He opened his eyes cautiously, not moving, and looked around him warily. He could see nothing, smell nothing, as though no one were there. But he could have sworn just then that something had been wanting his attention…

He shimmied on his belly to the edge of the ledge, peering out all round him, all the way to the other side of the room. The moonlight filtered through in long, spectral shafts that shimmered upon the waters in the cave. In the silver light Toad could see to luminescence shining off the iridescent backs of fish, which swam slowly and lazily, knowing no natural enemies within the shelter of the island.

He could see the shape of his face in the water, strangely illuminated, and as he bent closer to study it he noticed with sock that the features were not his own. Staring up at him with piercing, unearthly eyes, was the face of a young boy, pallid as death but smiling gently.

Toad fell back from where he had been crouching with a strangled gasp of shock.

Jacob!

He whirled round to look behind him, but he was alone on the ledge, and as he rushed forward to the water again it was only his own reflection staring wild eyed back at him. The feeling had faded; the cavern was calm and still. 

Alone again.

* * *

That night Toynbee dreamed of blood.

He dreamed of what he had done, and of the glee he had taken from it. He saw the scene played out for him like a film: he saw Sabretooth ripping flesh and shattering bones, drenched in blood, himself very much the same way, a grin of feral delight stamped upon his face as a young boy fell to his wrath. Probably just dragged to this meeting by his parents, Toad thought in hindsight, flinching away from his guilt. He saw Mystique shoved out of the way as he rushed past her, saw the confused and slightly hurt look on her beautiful features. He remembered the ride back on the helicopter, being so drenched on blood that the controls and were stained, while Sabretooth licked the gore from the battle off of his own flesh in the back, Mystique silent, eyes on the horizon, jaw set grimly. The shred of flesh on the spikes of his right glove. Sabretooth eyeing it and grinning broadly, striking him on the back in high good spirits. He saw the face of Jacob the night he died, and just hours before, reflected in the water.

Toad woke just before dawn, as the fist of the birds began to stir, and sat upon the rocks by the shoreline to think. He remained there for a very long time.


	8. Preparation

Chapter Six: Stand and Deliver

Chapter Seven: Preparation

The week managed to pass itself without producing anything of interest by way of events, though Toad was too preoccupied with what he had seen to scuffle with Sabretooth. These scuffles usually constituted the happenings around the cave, for usually they were as predictable as the tide that rose and fell throughout the day and night, as dependable as the waves that crashed over the island fortress.

Mystique had her hands full with Magneto, planning out the attack on the academy. He was eager to maim and kill, revenge having filled his world, now that the time was ripe for it. Everything was ready now, and the attack was a day away. There was another anti-mutant meeting, through furtive and secretive, happening then. Mystique had done some spying to uncover this information, and the X-Men were sure to know of it as well. Hopefully they would be in attendance when Sabretooth showed up to demonstrate his idea of group therapy. 

From there, Magneto, Mystique, and Toad would infiltrate the academy, the new implants in the Brotherhood members and Eric's helmet protecting them against early detection. From there, strike and escape.

The plan was simple, but efficient enough for Magneto. Mystique, despite her apathy toward the whole thing, felt a twinge of revulsion inside at the thought of murdering innocent children. She never felt much for grown human beings, for then it was too late to be innocent- harsh words had already been said, hearts had already been broken, backs had already been stabbed. But as children life in this sense had not yet touched them, and it hurt her to think of robbing them of any hope to be different from the rest when that time came.

When Magneto dismissed her, she went into the island's main cave and found Toad, telling him of Magneto's plan as she had been instructed to do. Mortimer merely nodded wordlessly, this time showing no eagerness, which was a plus, Mystique supposed. He turned from her after sharing a fleeing glance and smile and disappeared into the darkness of one of the passages that led secretly off into the bowels of the island. Mystique let him go, respecting his need for solitude, and instead turned round to go find something to eat. Listening to Magneto had made her tired, irritable, and hungry.

_Coffee,_ she thought. _A good cup of coffee is what I need._

Secretly she wished she could wash away the events of the past year, yearning for when things were tighter, less bloodthirsty, less discouraging.

She couldn't help hoping despite herself that things might be that way again.

* * *

Magneto could not hold down the rising tide of excitement that was making itself known inside of him. Things were nearly ready- it was nearly time.

He had changed in the past year. He knew it as well as anyone. A new darkness inside of him, born from memories and stagnation. It made him fiercer, more bitter, more calculatingly cruel. The joy that had seized him upon seeing his Brotherhood drenched in the blood of the patrons at the anti-mutant meeting further supported this. But he was not bothered in the least, not like Toad had been. He had seen the change in Toynbee and saw it as a change for the better, for now he was all the more able to carry out the more dirty-handed orders his master requested. He saw no change in Sabretooth, who was as constant as the rock surrounding him, but Mystique seemed a bit more pensive than she had been in the past. Eric was not worried. She was independent as independence goes within a closely cooperative group- able to care for herself better than anyone else could care for her.

Things were looking up. The only hurdle left before he could sleep easy again came tomorrow, at the break of dusk. 

* * *

Sabretooth was waiting, too, with all the eagerness of a child anticipating Christmas. He stalked around the island, hunting small animals to stifle the rising urge to kill. He had been told by Magneto that his role was very important: to provide enough of a distraction to give time enough for the others to attack the academy. _Slaying as many as possible is all well and good_, Magneto had said, _but you must avoid being slain yourself_. _Delay them- do not become lost in your bloodlust_. Sabretooth wasn't an idiot- this part he could have figured out for himself, but Magneto's eyes held such a fervent intensity that he daren't say so.

So he paced and hunted, went over his battle strategy.

The time drew nearer.


	9. Stand and Deliver

Chapter Eight: Stand and Deliver ****

Author's Note: Thank you all again for your reviews. They are gratefully acknowledged.

Chapter Eight: Stand and Deliver

The fateful day dawned cloudy and crossly threatening rain. Thunder rumbled deep in the sky, as Sabretooth's growl rumbled deep in his chest, betraying his anticipation. Magneto was prepared well ahead of time, as were they all, and the time to embark upon their mission was at hand.

Mystique, seated next to Toad in the helicopter cockpit, glanced over at him with apprehension. He had his battle garb on, still stained with blood, and the expression in his eyes was unreadable. But he looked prepared for whatever was in store for them, and Mystique felt another shiver go up her spine.

_If God exists,_ she thought, _let him have mercy on those children's souls._

The flight continued in drifting silence.

* * *

It was no problem for Sabretooth to enter the meeting, despite heightened security. He merely used the patrolmen as bludgeons, slamming open the doors. A watchman in each hand, he failed at the people inside, laughing wildly in the midst of his attack.

Magneto's predictions were accurate. Within minutes the X-Men had caught wind of the assault, and were nearing the scene. Sabretooth could sense them, and he laughed louder, into the terrified faces of his victims. Soon.

The helicopter had landed a ways away from the academy, next to where Mystique had positioned the black car with the tinted windows days before. It carried them smoothly and almost noiselessly right up to the academy, undetected in the gloom, its headlamps off. The navigation in the darkness of the wooded night was undertaken by Toad, his night vision as reliable as the midday sun. Soon they would be inside. Soon.

Magneto shivered with a mixture of delight and anxiety, his helmet safely masking his thoughts, avoiding detection even in the midst of Charles's home. The place was vaguely familiar, yet changed since he had been last, but Mystique knew it well, having been there before only a year and a half previous. 

Toad brought the vehicle to a smooth halt near the back entrance, and turned to share a glance with Mystique. His eyes, again, were unreadable, but there was a sense of purpose about them, different than his usual stoic resolve. She thought she caught the barest hint of a smile before he turned away again and they exited the car.

Mystique sighed to herself as they entered the back way, the X-Men gone and the children asleep, the halls dark. She did not agree with Eric's plan, hated it even, as she had hated no plan of his before. She thought it was a stupid, cruel, and fruitless idea, but the rage that corroded her leader's brain was far too strong to be admonished. She kept her mouth shut and her eyes ahead of her, feeling Toad's body by her side, adrift in its strange resolve. The dagger was cold against her thigh: a silent killer, to avoid detection as much as possible, and she shuddered at its icy efficiency. 

She stopped suddenly in the darkness, her hand extended. The dormitories were just ahead, where the mutant children slept, unsuspecting. Children as she had been. Little lost things, safe in their sanctuary. Mystique loathed taking another step, the one that would carry her to many little fates. 

Toad's hand to her back nudged her forward, and suddenly his voice was in her ear. As she listened, a smile spread across her features, and she nodded.


	10. The Finest Hour

Chapter Nine: The Finest Hour

Chapter Nine: The Finest Hour

Sabretooth had slaughtered seven when Cyclops burst through the doorway, followed by his allies. Seeing the number of them present made the feral mutant's eyes narrow: it was four to one. He saw Wolverine taking up the rear watchfully, expecting the other members of the Brotherhood to be about, but as much as he longed to Sabretooth could not face his enemy claw to claw, for his chances were hopeless against the odds. He was not stupid, his mind being as agile as his body when need be, and he recognized that his death would severely damage the Brotherhood, as Magneto had told him, mainly to soothe his ego, at first bruised at the news of his solo mission. He thought he had been given the expendable role.

Grabbing the nearest living human, he shielded his body with the screaming woman, and snarled to the X-Men, "Come closer and I rip this one's throat out."

He had been right in assuming this was a weakness. They backed off, every eye on him tensely. Mentally Sabretooth plotted his escape route, knowing already that he could outrun them easily. The group of frightened people stood still, one entrance blocked by a crowd of strange people, obviously mutants, the other entrance blocked by the hulking beast whose claws dripped with the blood of their comrades.

Sabretooth glanced behind him quickly. All was quiet outside. He let one breathless moment pass, and then speared the woman and thrust her with all his strength at his adversaries. Screaming in a high, unnatural tone, the woman crashed into them, her innards spilling forth in a hot, steaming flood onto the horrified mutants. She provided just the diversion that was needed. Her scream cut short, and when they looked up from the gruesome sight, Sabretooth had gone, in his place a flood of screaming people.

Wolverine's howl of rage cut through the night like a blade with a diamond edge.

* * *

The door to the dormitories was opened quietly, the lock picked by Toad's skillful hand. They stood open in the hall, soft snores emanating from some of the rooms, and Magneto tapped Toad's shoulder.

" Now," he said, his eyes alight. Toad nodded, grabbed Mystique, and disappeared into the first bedroom.

Magneto watched with pleasure as screams were heard from the room, awakening the children in the other rooms flooded the hall. When they saw Magneto they screamed themselves, and there was instant chaos. Magneto felt a laugh tear itself from his throat, cruel and hoarse and not like him at all. It was wonderful.

Toad and Mystique weren't visible in the crowd as he waded through it, basking in the children's fear. _Do your work, my assassins,_ he thought fervently, preparing to do his own damage.

Suddenly something was behind him, larger than the children, and then his helmet was ripped off and there was a terrific blow to the back of his head, throwing him forward.

Eric fell into darkness, spiraling down, down. The screams faded with the rest of the world.


	11. Aftermath

Chapter Ten: Aftermath

Chapter Ten: Aftermath

Sabretooth returned to the lair by the first light of morning, covered with flaking dried blood. Slightly disappointed by the anti-climax of his battle, he was in high bad temper, storming round the cave, throwing things and bellowing at intervals. After a time, his rage was spent, and he set out looking for news.

He found Mystique in Magneto's room, holding a cool cloth to his head. He was lying on the bed, apparently unconscious.

" What happened?" he growled.

" Our attack went wrong," Mystique answered, not looking at him. "One of Xavier's little X-Men attacked him, more showed up- we were outnumbered. Eric was hit in the head, knocked out, but he'll be okay. Apparently some stayed behind when the others left to find you."

" They were all there," Sabretooth said, suspicion tinting his tone. " Every one."

Mystique looked vaguely surprised. " I guess there must be more than we thought," she said. " I didn't get a good look at any of them. The chaos was indescribable. It was a bad plan." Her eyes darkened for a moment, but Sabretooth did not notice. She looked up at him after a time.

" Go on, get out of here. He needs quiet, and I'm the only one allowed in here anyway. If he wakes up he'll be pissed off to see you in here, and we'll both get in trouble."

Sabretooth turned and left with a growl, leaving behind the metallic smell of blood. Mystique sighed.

* * *

Toad sat in one of the lesser known caves, sitting on the bank of a large freshwater pond that had remained untouched by sunlight, deep in the subterranean cavern, for millions of years. The oil lamp beside him spluttered, throwing its tawdry light over the dripping black walls, making his reflection flicker in the water like shimmering gold.

He had seen Jacob again, in this very cave, the night before. The boy's face in the water had smiled at him before dissolving, and Toad had smiled back. The plan had worked. No children had been harmed- he was free of bloodlust; the callus was gone. Jacob had led him out of the horror that had been his life for nearly a year.

Toad had the mission planned out, but not in the way Magneto had expected. He and Mystique had disappeared into the first room at the academy, but only frightened the children by shaking them awake. Their appearances had done the rest. Eric had been so caught up in the joy of his plan's fulfillment that he had not noticed Toad and Mystique sneaking up behind him; did not know what had happened when Toad's doubled fists had come down on the back of his head, dropping him with precision. 

_It was another X-Man_, they would tell him._ We became surrounded. We had no chance of retaliation, so we abandoned our attack to bring you to safety._

No children had been harmed. His hands were free of blood and fate, his head free of the screams of the dying, his heart free of the stabbing guilt. 

Free.

* * *

Magneto came to by afternoon, and Mystique and Toad explained to him what had happened. He was angry, but took it in stride, as though he had been half-expecting failure. Both Toad and Mystique were relieved that he believed them, and as he dismissed them they indulged themselves in a faint but earnest smile.

Sabretooth was still in a bad mood, but he contented himself with remembering the carnage he had wrought upon both anti-mutant meetings, and had been soothed even more by Magneto's praise. He was thankful that Eric possessed the gift of great patience, and saw even small victories as important. Sabretooth had presented these two victories to him, and that did not go unrewarded. He was allowed, for the time being, to go where he pleased, to hunt what he liked. The sting of his fruitless hope to kill a few X-Men was dulled. Magneto had soothed the savage beast.

Now was time again to play the waiting game.


	12. Redemption

Chapter Twelve: Redemption

Chapter Eleven: Redemption

The night had fallen indigo and heavy, pressing down on the caverns, infiltrating every crack of the rocks. This night, the doves had hidden themselves away from its tendrils. Something was strangely electric in the atmosphere of the cave: something nameless, oppressive, unknown.

Toad sat at the water's edge in another of the small caves that had escaped the notice of the others, and where daylight rarely provided more than a dull half-light, as though it were twilight all of the time. He stared down at his reflection in the water as he had done many times in the past few days, half-expecting Jacob to come to him as he had done before, to soothe the swirls of confusion within him, to chase away his shadows. But not tonight- something was in the air, but Jacob did not come. Toad was alone, and contemplated leaving.

Just then, a breath of something whispered by him, and he looked up and around him, eyes wide in the velvet dark. Something was there. Something had touched him. He was alone, he had come alone- all the animals were tucked away in their places, no one else knew of this cave. _Something _had touched him.

He whirled round, still sitting upon the ground, toward the deepest part of the little cave, where the darkness was absolute. He could not see, even with his night-eyes, what lay beyond, but he felt something there, waiting. Rising unbidden, he walked as if in a dream towards that place, where he had never been, where he knew not what lay. But his feet were sure, unhesitant as thought they were accustomed to the terrain, and something beckoned to him in the black there, things swirled round; spectral, mystic. He traveled, upward and then down, until he came to a tiny beach, its sands jagged and almost black, where the waves washed up gently, surrounded by the rocks, whispering, solitary. Untouched and unseen ever by human eyes.

And upon this tiny beach, in this tiny cove, where the whispers were louder than the sea, where invisible things made their presence known in the flowing dark, lay the body of Jacob.

Toad stumbled out onto the sands, smelling the musty odor of decay, seeing the bones showing through the skin as thin and papery as parchment… grayish, unbleached by the sun. The clothing that remained was in tatters, ripped; the sands copper and embracing round the form. Nothing, no crabs nor birds nor fish, had preyed upon it. Sheets and threads of flesh clung to the bones still, the dark hair matted but still there. Toad's eyes could not leave the sight, his legs were weak, his mind invaded by foreign things, chipping away at his barriers, chewing ravenously upon them. The boy's eyeless sockets exposed by thin slits that were once the lids of the eyes… the slight opening of the shriveled lips to reveal the teeth, eerily white…Each detail in turn filled Toynbee's world, dragged him down deep into the pits of this lonely place, deep into the pits of sadness, where the boy that was Jacob was found.

Toad felt someone come from behind, walking slowly as if in a trance, as he had been. Without looking he knew it was Mystique. Her body was close to his, her hand clutching his tightly, tightly…and suddenly, standing upon this beach, close to his only friend, feeling her energy melding with his, making them stronger than they had ever been, all the hurt and confusion and sadness that he had ever felt came rushing out in a torrent. It left his body as though he had been exorcised of his inner demons- tears ran silently and freely down his cheeks and he shifted his gaze to see Mystique's face, and it was shining with those same tears, like rivers of diamonds in the moonlight. She smiled at him, he smiled back, and it was Jacob's smile, Jacob's strength clutching their hands, tightly, tightly.

Together again.

They then heard the voice, which came from the sands and the body and the cave and the sea…came from their hearts and they knew it for what it was, and sat down hard together upon the sand as it swirled up to embrace them.

__

You are as one, Jacob said, _redeemed. May you find peace as I have._

He need not have worried, for the two friends stood up together upon the solitary beach, faces open and shining and almost innocent…cleansed of the horrors of their lives and stronger for it. They shared one last smile with the boy and with each other, and then turned, hand in hand, back to the cave entrance, to live their lives again.

As one, redeemed.

****

The End.


End file.
